


Breaking and Rebuilding

by morgana07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angsty Dean, Angsty Schmoop, Big Brother Dean, Brother Feels, Brotherly Bonding, Gen, Healing, Season/Series 10, Slightly emotional Dean, Spoilers, Worried Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2498057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morgana07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1-shot. Set after 10x3 Soul Survivor. Dean’s convinced he’s broken his relationship with Sam finally. He knows what he did & said so he’s expecting the worst when he gets a surprise that begins a fragile rebuilding of a bond he thought lost. *Angsty/tired/coping/slightly emotional!Dean & worried/concerned/protective!Sam* SPOILERS!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking and Rebuilding

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Mild language. Schmoop, sap, spoilers.
> 
> Tags/Spoilers: Tagged to 10x03 Soul Survivor and yes, there will be spoilers so be aware before reading.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
> 
> Author Note: Yes, two gen tags in a row. I know, shocking, lol. This is just another take on the prompt from JaniceC678 where Dean thinks he’s pushed Sam away finally but his brother shows him differently

**Breaking and Rebuilding**

Flashes of pain, dark thoughts, lust, anger, dull uncaring all rolled through Dean Winchester’s head as he stuck it under the shower to try to get his own thoughts back in place while almost wishing he couldn’t recall the last few months.

At first when he’d slowly woken up he hadn’t recalled much and what he had remembered were things Dean knew would haunt him for the rest of his days. Now he wondered how much more he’d add to that list.

He recalled his time with Crowley. He recalled all the one night stands, meaningless sex, drinking, partying. He also recalled the bursts of rage, the need for blood. He recalled clearly every demon he’d killed, as well as a few beings not so demon but what bothered Dean the most was his memories involving his brother.

Staring at himself in the mirror of the shower room, Dean swiped a hand to clear it of steam as he made a forced conscious effort to see if his eyes would switch but slowly let out a breath of relief when they stayed green.

Dean swiped his fingers through his now back to normal short hair as he shaved quickly before drying off, grabbing clean clothes that he’d pulled from his room since he planned to burn any of the ones he’d worn while off on whatever the hell they were calling his recent lapse.

As he pulled a t-shirt on his eyes caught the marks of the needles used to try to clear him of any demonic influence but it was the other mark on his arm that had him lingering. The damn Mark of Cain had allowed what happened to happen but while Dean would love to throw the blame on Cain he knew it was mostly his fault for not giving the man…demon…whatever a chance to explain the risks or side effects.

Of course he also blamed the current King of Hell for that too since he’d been pushed, prodded and led through some pretty dark hoops by Crowley; a fact that would not slip the hunter’s focus when he met Crowley face to face again.

Dean shoved those thoughts down while he dressed. He heard sounds from another part of the bunker which told him that Sam was back from his ran into town but he didn’t head that way yet. Instead he headed for his room again.

Waking up tied to a chair in their dungeon with Sam and Castiel both watching him with worry, dread, and in Sam’s case, a little fear, had told him that he’d managed to screw up big time. The face full of Holy Water told him how bad but it was the way Sam’s fingers had shaken while he’d untied him and then how tense his brother had held himself when Dean stood that he knew he might’ve really blown it.

Growing up with Sam, learning his tells and habits allowed the older Winchester to know that despite Sam’s attempts to hide his concern, his unease, that he was still wary and worried that perhaps the cure wouldn’t be a long term success; a fact that also worried Dean and the reason he was giving Sam space now.

He also used the time to get comfortable in his own head, to try to put his thoughts to right but the more he did that, the more he recalled every goddamn thing he’d said to Sam recently.

When he’d asked Castiel if Sam wanted a divorce he hadn’t been joking. They’d been through a lot in their lives. In the last 10 years alone they’d been through Hell, literally, and Dean knew they’d both said some crap to one another but this would be the first time that he’d crossed the line in trying to hurt his brother; emotionally more than physically this time and that was only because Dean would thank a God he wasn’t sure he believed in that Castiel arrived in time to save Sam before he could hurt him.

Now it was a matter of facing the very real possibility that his little brother might just decide to kick his ass the curb and walk away. If it happened Dean sure as hell wouldn’t blame Sam given that he’d basically said two things he’d sworn he never would: he blamed Sam for their Mom’s death and he said that Sam didn’t have a brother.

Ever since Sam learned the truth about how their Mom had died in his nursery he’d blamed himself. He’d hated himself for being the cause of their family’s ruin or curse even as Dean fought to convince him that in every way it had been Mary Winchester who’d caused that when she’d made the original deal with the Yellow Eyed Demon to begin with.

Sam had also always believed for a reason that still escaped the older Winchester that Dean didn’t consider them brothers ever since the events at that Maryland convent that released Lucifer; not that Dean had helped those beliefs sometimes given a few of the things he’d said and done but he had thought he’d convinced Sam otherwise lately. Now he wasn’t so sure.

When Sam had hovered awkwardly around him when he’d first been cured and then made the sudden choice to go get food or something Dean had suspected that either Sam wouldn’t come back or that before this night was over he’d be getting stoic but still sad eyes as Sam told him he was leaving.

‘ _I chose the King of Hell over you_.’

That comment would’ve hurt just like Dean figured a few of Crowley’s comments to Sam had both hurt him but also spurred him on. Dean picked up a photo of the two of them together that was taken shortly after Sam had left Stanford to offer a smile curve of his lips at how young Sam was back then…how young they both were.

Moments like this Dean wished he had left Sam alone at college but then immediately knew that one way or another his brother would’ve been pulled back into this life because there were too many others seeking to use them. He wished he had the strength to just tell Sam to go, to get him out before the next big crisis began or the next big bad guy decided to make an appearance but even as he thought it he knew wasn’t ready for that step…unless Sam took the choice out of his hands.

“Guess it’s time to bite the proverbial bullet,” Dean muttered, pulling on a button down flannel before heading up to find his too quiet brother.

He was surprised that Sam was giving him space because normally if his brother was wary or nervous, especially if Dean was hurt or getting over being hurt Sam was his shadow. This distance just served to make his belief that Sam had finally decided he’d been used as Dean’s emotional doormat long enough and he was leaving but maybe was trying to find a good time to mention it.

“No time like the present,” Dean muttered, taking another look in at his reflection to be sure he saw who he was and not the thing he’d just been before heading up to the main rooms.

He bypassed the section of hall that would remind him of nearly trying to cave Sam’s skull in because he was barely fighting back the cracks in the emotional walls he’d always put up; cracks that had barely stayed up upon waking up fully.

Dean had learned long ago to cover his emotions. Sam had always been the more emotional one between them but it was hard this time to fight his basic urges or the need to show how tired and freaked he really had been and was right then.

A sound from the main room along with the smell of something that tugged both on Dean’s nose and his empty stomach had him changing directions from the kitchen to there. He’d thought if Sam brought anything back he’d go to the kitchen but now he frowned slightly.

Memories of stalking his brother through the bunker came back but Dean pushed them aside. He’d handle the memories in his own time and when he was alone. He’d handle Sam’s decision to walk as well.

Seeing the way Sam was favoring that injured side reminded Dean that he’d not only not been around when his brother had been jumped by something or someone but he’d also told some asshole with a mad-on for Dean to go ahead and kill him. He’d left Sam alone to face whatever had happened and that added another layer of guilt onto his already heavy load.

Not wanting to freak Sam out by coming up on him suddenly Dean made certain to make some type of noise to let his brother hear him; seeing the tense jerk and asking himself when was the last time he’d seen Sam do that with him.

“Hey, I was just putting the stuff out before coming to get you,” Sam spoke with his back to Dean while moving something on the long table in front of him in the library. “I thought we’d eat in here since the kitchen is…well I need to clean some stuff.”

Dean had briefly noticed the mess his kitchen had been in when he’d passed through it earlier but was willing to keep his mouth shut on that for the moment…unless Sam couldn’t explain that mess on the ceiling and why it looked like the sink had been burned.

He paused before getting too close, nose picking up scents that made his stomach rumble and his mouth water and he wondered if his knees suddenly felt as shaky as he thought they felt. “You…you got me a burger?” he wasn’t sure why his voice sounded so tight when he spoke.

“No, I got you 3 double bacon cheeseburgers with extra onions, a double fry order and pie,” Sam corrected as he turned with a smile; a smile that faltered the second he watched his brother’s face go from slightly pale to almost white. “Dean!”

Sam was across the room, down the few steps into the map room and was making a grab for Dean when he seemed suddenly off balance. “Hey! Hey, take it easy. Sit down or…what’s wrong? Is it coming back or what happened?” he demanded in a rush of fear that his belief that he’d cured his brother was backfiring in the worst way; that Dean might be hurt internally and still dying and no one knew that. “Dean! Take it easy. I’ve got you. I’ll get Cas back here or…huh? Dean?”

Guilt was something Dean lived with daily. He’d done plenty to feel it so it wasn’t anything knew. Expecting the worst in any situation was also something he was excellent at because he’d been disappointed enough in his life to have learned to just expect the bad rather than the good out of things. That was why it was so much easier to expect Sam to leave after all he’d said and done to him.

Dean had fully expected to find Sam in the kitchen or someplace, share some type of last meal or even a bland pizza before facing the words and the moment of watching Sam walk out a door while knowing he’d let him because he couldn’t ask Sam to stick it out this time; not after what he’d said to him.

That had been what he’d expected. He hadn’t expected to find that when Sam went on a food run he’d gone to a diner 25 miles out of town to get Dean’s favorite burger and fries because it was better than what the bar in town served. He hadn’t expected his brother to remember the extra onions because Sam had always bitched about his need for extra onions. But what had done it, what had finally served to crack that infamous internal Dean Winchester wall of anti-emotion was the vision of six full pies, not pieces but full pies, on the edge of the table that showed how much care Sam had taken to place the food out like a real meal in spite of working with one hand.

He’d felt like he’d been kicked in the gut with a freight train; all the air had rushed from his lungs as he heard that hard callous voice saying the most vicious things he could think of to hurt Sam and yet his damn pain in the ass little brother had still brought him his favorite foods as if it didn’t matter.

Dean felt his eyes blurring with tears he fought not to fall but then he heard the panic in Sam’s voice as he mistook this for something else. He felt Sam trying to grab him with only one good hand, a hand that Dean could feel wasn’t as strong as Sam’s dominant right when he grabbed onto it.

“Sammy,” the nickname felt strange because he knew he’d used it before too, had used it while tossing hurtful things out but yet he knew if he didn’t use it now that Sam would worry even more. “You…” he had to swallow the lump in his throat as he grabbed onto Sam and before his brother could tense or wonder he pulled him into a hard hug; a hug like he’d wanted to give him the moment he’d been freed from the chair in the dungeon and only the obvious slight fear in those big hazel eyes stopped him. “You brought me pie.”

Sam was certain the cure was backfiring. He’d about freaked out when he watched Dean’s face go pale because he’d seen anguish, shock and maybe a little disbelief or fear for a second and he’d been ready to plop his brother in a chair and call that angel to demand Castiel get his feathered ass back there ASAP. He’d been expecting convulsions or pain or flashing eyes when he grabbed for his brother…he hadn’t been expecting to be yanked into a hug.

Hugs were and had always been few and far between in their family. It had been during the trials that Sam had thought more than once that Dean was possessed or an alien given the times he actually hugged him and let him hug back without any lip or snark.

It had been so hard for Sam not to have grabbed onto his brother earlier when realizing that Dean was back, that his brother was still alive and seemed cured but the words of before along with memories of fear made him hold back.

He’d been holding back now after getting to the bunker because he wanted to give Dean time and space to try to come to grips with any memories he had. He also was trying to come to terms with his own feelings when this happened and he forgot those worries in his haste to get to his brother.

Now he grabbed on with his left arm to hug back but was left slightly confused by the pie comment. “Yeah, I learned my lesson to never bring you cake. The lady at the diner had just baked those and sold them to me when I told you my brother had been sick and was just getting his appetite back,” he swore to himself that he’d keep the chick flick moment at bay but it was hard. “Dean? You okay?”

“You brought me pie and double bacon cheeseburgers with extra onions after all I said to you,” Dean’s voice was raw, ragged from fighting back the emotions that were already pouring out until he gave it up and let it come. “When you said before you were making a run for food I expected some fast food pizza or chips. I expected…I thought you’d come back in, drop it off and kick my ass to the curb.”

“You thought I was…” Sam felt his eyes go wide when it finally sank in that his brother thought he’d leave. “Dude, why would I walk out now?” he asked, starting to pull back only to feel Dean’s arms tighten and that was when it hit Sam that Dean had all his memories and he was fighting the guilt and hurt.

“I blamed you for Mom’s death. I said you didn’t have a brother. I said I chose Crowley over you and that I couldn’t wait to get away from you and…I know I hurt you, Sammy,” Dean knew this was a chick flick moment to beat them all but he wasn’t ready to let go of Sam yet when all he could see was himself breaking out of the electrical room and Sam’s fear. “I tried to kill you.”

Sam nodded slowly, wishing he had the use of both arms right then or a camera to record this moment with more than his memory. “Yeah, you said a lot of stuff but I knew it wasn’t you, the real you, saying them. I knew he was trying to hurt me, trying to make me stop. As for the other thing…that wouldn’t be the first time you’ve tried to kill me while under something’s control.”

The tone was light but forced which told Dean that Sam would be having as many nightmares about the scene in the hall as he would. He slowly eased Sam back to arm’s length to stare into big wet hazel puppy dog eyes to see the shadows under his eyes and how tired and weak his brother looked now that he was seeing with his basic instincts, the instinct to protect.

“If Cas hadn’t shown up when he did…I could’ve killed you, Sam,” he pointed out seriously, eyes moving to the immobilized right arm then back up. “You might’ve stood a chance against me back with that Siren or even that cursed coin or any other time but with your right arm useless, with you already weak…you look like shit by the way, and with nothing holding me back…I would’ve killed you. Tell me you knew Castiel was coming.”

Sam swallowed thickly because he did know all of that. He knew how close he’d been to dying this time but he also knew he wouldn’t have stopped trying to help his brother, then or now. “I knew he was on his way. I…I didn’t know if he’d get here in time when you broke loose. I took a chance that if you did take that next step, if you did try to actually kill me that maybe the cure would kick in or something,” he watched Dean’s eyes narrow in disbelief and figured he’d be getting a lecture later. “I meant when I said we don’t get to quit in this family. I wasn’t quitting and I wasn’t letting you quit on yourself. Then there was my default ultimate last try to stop you if you did kill me.”

“Uh-huh. Do I want to ask what that was?” Dean wasn’t sure he did, especially when Sam’s lashes lowered to hide his eyes. “Sammy? What the hell were you going to do if I wasn’t stopped?”

“Well, Plan A if I saw you were really going to kill me was to try to put enough space between us to get you into the garage and then hit the switch that would ignite the bunker’s self-destruct code. I figured I’d rather kill us both or bury you under the whole hillside than let you loose out there with people,” Sam refused to look at Dean as he said this, knowing what he’d done when he set up the recently discovered fail safe system the original builders must have put in. “Plan B…was a little trickier.”

“Trickier than bringing this place down on both of us?” Dean wasn’t sure if he wanted to be scared or impressed at learning about this. “Tell me.”

Sam took a breath, feeling a hand on his jaw and knew Dean wanted him to look at him but it was hard to admit he’d actually thought of ways to kill his demon infected brother even if it meant killing himself or making sure if he died that Dean wasn’t a threat to innocents.

“The other reason it took me a little longer to leave to get the food is…I had to take the kill switch off the Impala’s ignition,” he heard a slight sound of teeth grinding and winced, knowing how his brother felt or he hoped felt again about him messing with the car. “I knew if you did kill me that you’d take the Impala so I packed it with Holy Oil and set it that when you turned her on it would…explode.”

“You turned my car into a bomb?” Dean was glad they were close to the map table because this time he did have to lean back against it. “Okay, now that one…damn, Sammy…that is something only Dad might’ve thought to do. I think you have succeeded in both impressing me and scaring the shit outta me,” he caught Sam’s jaw again to make their eyes meet so his brother could see him. “I’m also proud of you.”

“For thinking of ways to kill you?” Sam scoffed, uneasy with the comparison to their Dad because he’d noticed more and more of John Winchester in his actions as of late.

“For thinking of ways to protect innocent people from me,” Dean corrected, adding quickly. “Though I would’ve liked it more if you’d’ve thought of those things in a way that would also keep you alive. I don’t want you dead, Sammy.”

“And I don’t want to know I killed you because I couldn’t save you and still live, Dean,” Sam returned, trying to keep the tears he could feel from falling. “I think I’d quit if I did that but you worrying about me leaving? No, you won’t get rid of me that easily. I fought to get you back this time and I’ll fight to keep you from losing yourself again when or if that mark acts up or goddamn Crowley shows his face again.”

Dean stared into Sam’s eyes, reading his depth of conviction and slowly let himself believe it. He pulled Sam in for another hug before easing back to eye the shoulder. “Gonna tell me the name of the asshole you did this?” he asked curiously, making a place on his list of people whose lungs he’d rip out for touching his brother.

“Sure, just as soon as you tell me the story about the guy who tried to use a hammer on my kneecap after he beat the crap outta me over you supposedly killing his Dad,” Sam countered, stepping back slowly as if wanting to be sure Dean was steady on his feet. “That would’ve been a few months before you came for me so…I’m guessing something else ganked Cole’s Dad and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“Something like that,” Dean sighed, hating that out of all of the things in his past that this would be what came back to bite him in the ass and at a bad time too. “I’ll tell you about it later. Now if we can stop the chick flick moment stuff…can we eat? Cause I’ll tell you being a demon really plays hell with a guy’s appetite.”

Sam nodded, following his brother to the table in the library to sit across from him and reach for a bottle of whiskey that sat there only to feel it moved away from his fingers. “I was going to drink that,” he objected only to blink when the untouched salad and grilled chicken containers were put in front of him.

“Yeah, you were but you’re not now,” Dean returned with a more familiar smirk, recalling from years earlier that when things were really bad his brother tended to follow in the age old Winchester habit of drinking. He also knew that unlike him or their Dad, Sam couldn’t drink hard liquor and never on an empty stomach. “When was the last time you ate something not out of a bag or a microwave, Sam? When did you last eat solid food and not that bottle? When was the last time you slept for more than an hour?”

“How long have you been gone?” Sam returned but stared at the salad as it was opened and a fork was put in his hand.

“I eat, you eat. You don’t eat, I won’t eat and…I’ll make you eat,” Dean lifted an eyebrow, surprised at how easy it came back to him; how easy it came to care for Sam when the recent months had been one uncaring blur. “Or I’ll call Jody and let her come down.”

Sam knew he was using one of his better bitch faces this time but he did feel his stomach grumble so slowly, awkwardly since it was still hard to eat one handed he began to take small bites until finally Dean was satisfied and unwrapped one of his burgers. He watched the sheer blissful joy that passed his brother’s face as he inhaled the familiar smell. “Dean?” he kept his eyes on his salad as he risked this one.

“Yeah?” Dean took a bite out of the burger and thought that while his were better this was a close second given he was starving. “Talk now before I go into a burger coma. God, I have missed food.”

“I…I…” Sam paused and then let the rest of his words out in a mumble that he figured was too low for Dean to hear only to be reminded how acute his brother’s hearing still was when a hand reached out to grip his wrist.

“Yeah, I know you do, little brother,” he gave a reassuring squeeze to Sam’s wrist, a way to show that he was alright and that slowly they would be as well. “I do too.”

Sam smiled a little but began to eat better as slowly things began to feel more normal again in the bunker. He listened to his brother talk about and to his food as he ate and Sam hoped things stayed calm in their lives for a little while at least. They both needed the break to heal and reconnect. He could only hope Heaven and Hell left them alone.

**The End**


End file.
